#Do they not care at all about how their lives will be affected by this shit

[spiderbitesandvampirevenom]

I mean, I think you partially answered your own question there. Because you're right, If we treat TMA/TME as a binary it can't include intersex issues. And you're right, it is often applied without any consideration towards intersex issues. However, my point with the original post is that TMA/TME isn't and shouldn't be a binary.

First of all, lets talk real quick about the terms themselves. Transmisogyny Affected/Exempt. These are deceptively simple labels, and I think that's where a lot of the confusion comes up for people. Transmisogyny can refer to specific interpersonal acts, but it's also first and foremost a term describing the societal system that is designed to oppress transfems, i.e. people who were Assigned Male At Birth and no longer identify with that. And at a systemic level, that is the deciding factor. Transmisogyny picks its targets based on that assignment at birth. Individually, people who were not AMAB may find themselves the target of interpersonal transmisogyny, just as any individual can be mistakenly targeted by bigotry that doesn't apply to them. I get misdirected anti-hispanic shit thrown at me all the time, it doesn't make me hispanic. Likewise, being subjected to transmisogyny as someone who was AFAB does not necessarily make one TMA.

You're right, though, being intersex means you're not necessarily going to fall neatly into either a TMA or a TME bucket. Which means unfortunately when perisex people get to spend some time adjusting to the concept in Transmisogyny 1001: Transfemininity for Babies, you've been forced to skip ahead a bit to Transmisogyny 2001: Critical Thinking & Intersectionality. I don't know you or anything about you, so I'm not gonna talk too specifically here, I'm just trying to give you the lead to make your own analysis. SO. Here we go.

On some issues, you might be reasonably considered affected by transmisogyny. Depending on where you live and how legislation is written, you might find yourself targeted by transmisogynistic legislation. On many issues, however, as someone who was AFAB, you will find you are not going to be affected systemically by those issues. Because Transmisogyny's primary target is (primarily perisex) people who were AMAB and are now transfem. Regardless of whether or not you're TMA/TME though, this overlap in the treatment of transfem people and intersex people means we get to do something really cool called Intersectionality, where we focus on discussing the shared problems our communities face. Like personally, I don't particularly care whether or not you're TMA/TME. The fact that we have shared experiences matters more than the labels at that point. Transmisogyny and Intersexism have very similar playbooks and a lot of the time, one is going to include some level of the other. I'd rather discuss the intersection of our experiences than try to delineate where one starts and the other ends.

you folks realise TME isnt just a new synonym for transmasc right. like you realize when trans women are talking about TransMisogyny Exempt Individuals that includes, like, for example, cis men and women, right?? if you're gonna throw a fit over TMA/TME being "a new binary" i think you are a) purposefully misrepresenting these terms for the sake of delegitimizing them or b) being taken advantage of by those who do so. check your transmisogyny and do better lmao.

[shizunitis]

How do you think Shen Qingqiu would be affected if he had Xin Mo?

holy fuck i've been thinking about this for months and now that i've been asked i'm kind of lost. anon i love you prepare for a whole lotta yapping

the question is vague enough to both give me room to fuck around and to not know what to focus on. so i'll go with trying to figure out what the chain of events would be, mostly. i'm very sleepy though. that should be taken into consideration.

xin mo uses its masters' trauma and psychological issues against them. which means we just have to take shen qingqiu's issues and ramp them up enough to see what that would do to him. how that change would present itself is highly dependent on how he comes upon xin mo, as well.

first off, what does he want? shen qingqiu wants, in no particular order: to survive, to have luo binghe by his side and safe, and to protect his sect from a wrathful luo binghe.

he dislikes violence but doesn't shy away from it when it's expected of him to be unmoved by it. he's a deeply curious person and likes theorising, cultivation, and feeling powerful and respected. he thinks of himself as a "faker" but is proud of his moral stances, especially when they differ from the original goods'.

his biggest frustration throughout the novel is the fact that he cannot protect luo binghe from the plot and all the suffering that would bring him, and that he is under the control of something so opposed to his own goals as the system.

let's say shen qingqiu were to fall into the abyss and find xin mo himself, and therefore the system's control of him would be weakened, as it was when binghe was down there. this would mean he didn't betray binghe, maybe even took his place. this has to happen because he figures out the system is his biggest obstacle, before he gets to xin mo, or else my whole thing falls apart. maybe shang qinghua plays a part in this, maybe not.

it doesn't matter much how, but if he doesn't come to this realisation at some point, he would not place his target on the system, nor would he get the courage to try to change things according to his own wishes.

so. abyss -> revenge on the system -> find xin mo -> cultivate with it -> get out of the abyss.

first off, the sect wouldn't stand for him using a clearly harmful (to both himself and the world around him) demonic sword, or any sort of demonic cultivation at all, so he'd have to hide it if he were to make his way back. paranoia and fear would probably change him into an overprotective person, someone who slowly becomes less careful about what he has to do in order to protect his people, especially when we factor in how he'd had to, for years, live under the control and supervision of the system.

there is also the problem of getting close to the protagonist again. if he were to make contact, the system would re-activate, and his attempt to kill it would be useless.

he'd draw himself away from the people he cares about so he could watch over them. he would study and try to use the sword to change things in his favour, with the right incentive. the harm brought to his cultivation by the sword would probably force him to become more secretive so he isn't discovered.

he would probably seclude himself away from cang qiong, binghe and most of the world. whether he goes into the demon realm or not doesn't matter. he would rely on only himself, unless he can get shang qinghua involved in his plans. i imagine shang qinghua would be opposed to it, not only because the system would be against it, but because shen qingqiu's death or pain would spell his own destruction (by luo binghe's hand) if he didn't try to stop it.

the threat of huan hua palace and people discovering binghe's true nature would probably allow for the sword to take advantage of him more and more as he uses it to fight against them. i don't think the opm would not go after luo binghe, especially with shen qingqiu out of the picture, so i'm imagining the old fuck would offer luo binghe some sort of help just to get him close. shen qingqiu wouldn't stand for it, and we know that as he gets more desperate, shen qingqiu tends toward pragmatism. he would do what needs to get done, i guess.

"stuck between a rock and a hard place" pretty much describes shen qingqiu in svsss. having that not be the system's fault, for once, would probably push him to the edge enough that he does something extremely stupid and turns the entire cultivation world against him in an attempt to protect binghe from the opm's influence.

i don't think he would go too far, outwardly. he would probably bring more harm unto himself with xin mo than binghe had, and would probably suffer more than anyone else involved. him being so tight-lipped about his own motivations would get him scorned and named a traitor to the human realm. he'd have shen jiu's reputation post-trial, maybe. he would become colder, lifeless, honed-in on his goals.

this was an extremely long-winded way of saying that shen yuan, corrupted by xin mo, would become a husk of his former self. i imagine a moment where he tries to be warm again, that whole fond teacher shtick, and would find himself horrified at how much of an act that is now, rather than acting cold and heartless. i think he'd have turned his caring into caring too much to the point of leaving himself behind.

i had a wip of shen yuan transmigrating into luo binghe and having to lean into xin mo's influence so that he could get luo binghe reinstated into his own body that i put on the shelf at some point. he ended up baiting people into trying to assassinate him, and used their sacrifice as a way to power some sort of revival technique.

shen yuan needs plausible deniability for every action he does, especially ones he sees as morally reprehensible. so. add that to the whole thing above and that's the bulk of it, i think. maybe. god please tell me i make sense i need a shizun headpat

[urdreamydoodles]

How about Scott, Logan, Hank, Jean, Orroro, Erik, Colussus, Emma, gambit x reader where they kind of forget to take care of themselves. Like the reader will forget to do basic survival things ( eating, sleeping, drinking water, ect) and just generally overworking themselves

ps. love your content

X-Men x Reader

You forget to take care of yourself

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Hank McCoy, Colossus, Emma Frost & Bobby Drake

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan isn’t the type to hover, but he notices things others miss. He’s sharp enough to pick up on your exhaustion, the way your hands tremble slightly when you’re holding your coffee mug or how you’ve been skipping meals. At first, he doesn’t say much, figuring you’re just busy, but when it becomes a pattern, his concern kicks in.

- He corners you one evening when you’re buried in work, his gruff voice cutting through the quiet. “You gonna tell me what’s goin’ on, or do I have to guess?” When you brush him off with a tired smile, he narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “You forgettin’ you’re not made o’ adamantium? You’re gonna keel over if you keep this up.”

- Logan doesn’t let it slide. The next morning, you wake up to the smell of coffee and bacon. He’s standing in the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he gestures to the plate he’s made for you. “Eat. And don’t even think about arguin’.” His tone leaves no room for negotiation.

- Despite his rough edges, Logan’s care is genuine. He starts keeping a closer eye on you, making sure you’re eating regular meals and getting enough sleep. He even drags you outside for fresh air, taking you on walks or insisting you join him for a sparring session. “Sweat it out, darlin’. Clears the head.”

- When you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, his reaction surprises you. He pulls you into a tight hug, his voice soft as he says, “You don’t gotta do it all alone. I’m here, y’know.” There’s an intensity in his gaze that makes you believe him.

- Logan becomes your rock, the person who grounds you when you’re spiraling. His quiet, steadfast support makes all the difference, and you know he’ll always have your back, even when you forget to take care of yourself.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy is quick to notice when you start slipping on self-care. He may come off as laid-back, but his sharp eyes catch every little detail—the skipped meals, the heavy bags under your eyes, the way your energy dwindles. At first, he tries to coax you back into a routine with his usual charm.

- “Chérie, y’know you can’t live on caffeine alone, oui?” he teases, placing a plate of food in front of you during a late-night work session. When you wave him off with a distracted “later,” his smile falters, but he doesn’t push—yet.

- The breaking point comes when he finds you passed out at your desk, papers scattered everywhere. Panic flashes in his eyes as he shakes you awake, his voice tight with worry. “Mon amour, this ain’t okay. You scarin’ me.” Seeing the genuine concern on his face makes you realize how far you’ve pushed yourself.

- From that moment, Remy takes it upon himself to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. He starts showing up with your favorite snacks, pulling you away from work for impromptu dance breaks, and insisting you take naps—sometimes dragging you to the couch himself.

- One evening, after you confess how overwhelmed you’ve been feeling, he cups your face in his hands, his red-on-black eyes soft with understanding. “You ain’t gotta do it all, cher. Let me help, yeah? We a team.” His voice is so full of love that you can’t help but nod.

- Remy becomes your biggest cheerleader, always finding ways to make you smile and reminding you to prioritize yourself. His unwavering support and playful affection make it impossible not to feel cared for, and you know he’ll always be there to lift you up when you falter.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt notices something’s wrong when you start missing your usual cheerful banter. Your exhaustion doesn’t escape him, and it worries him to see the spark in your eyes dim. He approaches you gently, his tail swishing with concern as he offers a soft, “Liebchen, you seem tired. Are you all right?”

- When you brush off his concern, Kurt doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention. He brings you tea when you’re working late, gently encouraging you to take breaks. When he sees you skipping meals, he tries to tempt you with your favorite dishes, his smile warm and inviting.

- One day, he finds you asleep in the library, slumped over a pile of books. His heart aches as he watches you, realizing how much you’ve been neglecting yourself. He teleports you to the couch, covering you with a blanket before sitting beside you, determined to be there when you wake up.

- When you finally open up about feeling overwhelmed, Kurt listens intently, his golden eyes full of empathy. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly, taking your hand in his. “I know how it feels to carry too much, but you mustn’t forget to care for yourself. You are precious, mein Schatz.”

- From then on, Kurt makes it his mission to remind you of your worth. He leaves little notes of encouragement around the house, surprises you with flowers, and insists on taking you out for relaxing strolls or quiet nights under the stars.

- His unwavering kindness and quiet strength help you find balance again. With Kurt by your side, you feel lighter, knowing that his love and support will always be a safe haven when the world feels too heavy.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott is the first to notice when you start overworking yourself. His leadership instincts kick in, and he keeps a watchful eye on you, though he tries not to overstep. At first, he offers subtle reminders: “Don’t forget to eat,” or “You should get some rest.” But when it becomes clear you’re ignoring him, he grows more direct.

- One night, he finds you still at your desk, your eyes heavy with exhaustion. “This isn’t sustainable,” he says, his voice firm but laced with concern. “You’re going to burn out if you keep pushing yourself like this.” His seriousness makes it hard to argue, but you wave him off, insisting you’re fine.

- The breaking point comes when you collapse during a training session. Scott rushes to your side, panic flashing across his usually composed face. “You’re not fine,” he says, his voice tight with worry. “You need to take care of yourself. You can’t keep doing this.” His frustration is evident, but so is his love.

- After that, Scott takes a more proactive approach. He adjusts your schedule, ensuring you have time to rest and recharge. He checks in with you regularly, bringing you meals and reminding you to hydrate. Though his methods can feel a bit overbearing, his intentions are always rooted in care.

- One evening, as you sit together on the couch, you finally admit how overwhelmed you’ve been. Scott pulls you into his arms, his hold steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says softly. “We’re a team, and I’m here for you. Always.” His sincerity brings tears to your eyes, and you feel a weight lift off your shoulders.

- Scott’s support becomes a constant in your life, his quiet strength and unwavering dedication helping you find balance again. With him by your side, you feel like you can take on anything, knowing he’ll always be there to catch you when you stumble.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean notices your neglect almost instantly. Her psychic connection to you allows her to sense the subtle shifts in your emotions—the way your mind feels frazzled and your energy drained. She approaches you gently, her green eyes filled with concern as she asks, “Have you eaten today?” When you shake your head and brush her off, she doesn’t push, but you can tell she’s not satisfied.

- She starts taking small steps to ensure you’re cared for. She’ll float a sandwich or a glass of water to your desk while you’re working, her telekinesis a quiet reminder of her presence. When she sees you avoiding sleep, she’ll softly suggest turning in early, sometimes even staying awake with you to keep you company.

- One evening, Jean finds you in the kitchen staring blankly at an empty coffee cup. Her worry reaches a breaking point. “This isn’t just about being busy,” she says, placing her hand over yours. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, and I won’t let you burn out.” There’s no judgment in her voice, only love and determination.

- When you finally break down, admitting you’ve been overwhelmed and feel like you’re failing at everything, Jean pulls you into a warm embrace. Her psychic presence wraps around you like a soft blanket, calming your racing thoughts. “You’re not alone in this,” she murmurs. “Let me help carry the weight. That’s what love is for.”

- Jean starts creating little rituals to help you take care of yourself. She insists on morning coffee together, quiet evening walks, and regular check-ins where you both share your thoughts and feelings. Her calm, nurturing nature makes you feel safe, like you can breathe again.

- With her help, you begin to find balance. Jean’s love is steadfast and comforting, a reminder that you don’t have to face life’s challenges on your own. Her psychic connection becomes a lifeline, silently encouraging you to take care of yourself as she quietly supports you every step of the way.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- Ororo notices something is wrong when your usually vibrant energy starts to dim. She’s intuitive and observant, picking up on the smallest signs—the slump in your shoulders, the hollow sound of your laughter. She approaches you one evening, her calm voice breaking the silence: “You’ve been neglecting yourself, haven’t you?”

- When you try to deny it, Ororo gives you a knowing look, her piercing blue eyes full of quiet authority. “You can’t lie to me, love. I see the storm you’re carrying inside you.” Her words are gentle but firm, and she begins to subtly guide you toward self-care without overwhelming you.

- One night, Ororo invites you to join her in the greenhouse. She hands you a watering can and encourages you to tend to the plants with her. As you work side by side, she talks softly about balance and how nature thrives when it’s nurtured. “You’re just as precious as these plants,” she says, her voice full of affection.

- When you finally admit how much you’ve been struggling, Ororo takes your hands in hers, her touch warm and grounding. “You’re not weak for needing help,” she tells you. “Even the strongest storms need time to rest and rebuild.” Her words hit you deeply, and you feel a weight lifting as you share your worries with her.

- Ororo begins incorporating moments of peace into your daily routine. She takes you on walks during sunrise, leads you in meditation sessions, and teaches you how to find solace in the quiet moments. Her serene presence becomes a beacon of calm in your chaotic life.

- With Ororo by your side, you start to feel whole again. Her love is like the rain—cleansing and rejuvenating, reminding you that even in the darkest times, there is beauty and renewal waiting just around the corner.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue isn’t the most subtle when she notices you’ve been neglecting yourself. She’s direct and to the point, her Southern drawl laced with concern as she says, “Sugar, when’s the last time you ate somethin’ that wasn’t outta a vending machine?” Her bluntness is her way of showing she cares, even if it catches you off guard.

- She doesn’t let the issue slide. Rogue starts showing up with home-cooked meals, setting them in front of you with a stern look. “Don’t make me spoon-feed ya,” she jokes, though there’s an edge of seriousness in her tone. Her care comes with a healthy dose of sass, but it’s impossible not to feel loved.

- When she catches you skipping sleep to work late, Rogue plants herself on the couch beside you, her arms crossed. “If you don’t lay down and rest, I’m gonna drag you to bed myself,” she warns. Her no-nonsense attitude is oddly comforting, making you realize she’s not going anywhere.

- One night, after you finally break down and admit how overwhelmed you’ve been, Rogue’s demeanor softens. She pulls you into a tight hug, careful not to touch you with her bare skin. “I know what it’s like to feel like you gotta carry it all, but you don’t have to, darlin’. I’m here, and I ain’t lettin’ you go through this alone.”

- Rogue starts actively looking for ways to lighten your load. She’ll take over small tasks, crack jokes to make you smile, and even pull you away from work for impromptu movie nights. Her mix of tough love and genuine affection becomes a lifeline for you.

- With Rogue in your corner, you feel stronger and more supported than ever. Her love is fierce and unwavering, a reminder that you’re never truly alone as long as she’s by your side.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is not one to hover, but he’s perceptive enough to notice when you’ve been neglecting yourself. He watches you carefully, his piercing gaze full of unspoken concern. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” he finally says one evening, his voice low and serious. “This cannot continue.”

- When you try to brush him off, Erik’s frustration shows. “Do not insult my intelligence,” he says sharply, though there’s no malice in his tone. “I know you’re struggling. Why must you insist on facing this alone?” His words cut through your defenses, but they’re rooted in a deep care for you.

- Erik begins to intervene in his own way, using his powers to remove distractions and obstacles. He’ll levitate your work away from you, placing it out of reach with a raised eyebrow. “You can finish that later,” he says firmly. “Right now, you need to rest.”

- When you finally confess how overwhelmed you’ve been, Erik’s expression softens. He steps closer, his voice quiet but resolute. “I have spent a lifetime fighting for what I believe in, but nothing is more important to me than you. Do not think for a moment that you must bear this burden alone.”

- Erik becomes a steadfast presence in your life, offering both practical support and emotional comfort. He’ll prepare meals, insist on regular breaks, and hold you close when the weight of the world feels too heavy. His love is intense and protective, a force as unyielding as the metal he commands.

- With Erik’s unwavering support, you begin to find balance again. His love is a shield against the chaos, reminding you that even the strongest among us need someone to lean on. In his arms, you feel safe, cherished, and whole.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Hank notices your habits immediately—your distracted demeanor, the hollow tone in your voice, the faint shadows under your eyes. Ever the scientist, he doesn’t bring it up outright but quietly observes. “Have you had any sustenance today?” he asks casually, his blue eyes studying you carefully. When you deflect with a vague answer, he hums knowingly but doesn’t press—yet.

- The next day, you find yourself gently cornered in the lab as Hank casually sets down a plate of food next to you. “I’m aware of your penchant for neglecting basic human needs under stress,” he says with a slight smile. “So, humor me and eat this while we talk.” His concern is masked with light humor, but you feel his genuine worry behind every word.

- One evening, after you nearly pass out from exhaustion, Hank’s patience wears thin. “Enough,” he says firmly, his normally gentle tone sharp. “You’re not a machine, and I won’t allow you to treat yourself as such.” His words hit harder than you expect, and his disappointment feels like a heavy weight.

- When you finally break down, confessing that you feel like you can’t stop or everything will fall apart, Hank pulls you into a surprisingly tender embrace. “You are not an island, my dear,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to face everything alone. Let me be your foundation when the ground feels unsteady.”

- From that day forward, Hank becomes your fiercest advocate for self-care. He insists on regular meals and sleep schedules, even developing a playful system of reminders with your favorite quotes or jokes to lighten the mood. His support feels like a lifeline, steady and comforting.

- With Hank’s love and guidance, you learn to value yourself as much as he values you. His steady presence and unwavering care remind you that balance is essential, and you’re never truly alone as long as he’s by your side.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- Piotr is gentle and observant by nature, so he notices your struggles quickly. When you skip meals or overwork yourself, his brow furrows with quiet concern. “My love,” he says softly, his Russian accent warm and soothing, “when did you last take a moment for yourself?”

- At first, he tries subtle nudges—leaving water by your desk, offering to cook meals together, suggesting walks to clear your mind. When these hints go unnoticed, Piotr decides to take a more direct approach. One evening, he lifts you effortlessly and carries you to the kitchen, setting you down with a warm smile. “Now, we eat.”

- Piotr’s breaking point comes when he finds you passed out from exhaustion. His steel exterior reflects his internal turmoil as he carries you to bed, sitting beside you until you wake. “You push yourself too hard,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You do not need to prove anything to me—or anyone. You are enough as you are.”

- When you finally open up about feeling like you can’t afford to slow down, Piotr listens intently, his large hands gently holding yours. “I understand what it means to feel burdened,” he says. “But strength is not just enduring. It is knowing when to lean on those who love you.”

- From then on, Piotr takes it upon himself to help you find balance. He plans quiet evenings with books and art, prepares your favorite meals, and insists on taking over tasks when you’re overwhelmed. His unwavering care feels like a protective shield around you, keeping the chaos at bay.

- With Piotr’s love and steadfast support, you begin to feel whole again. His patience and kindness teach you that caring for yourself is not weakness but strength, and his presence becomes a source of peace in your life.

Emma Frost aka. The White Queen

- Emma is not one for subtlety, so when she notices you neglecting yourself, she calls you out immediately. “Darling, when was the last time you ate something that wasn’t coffee?” she asks, one perfectly arched eyebrow raised. Her tone is sharp, but her concern is evident beneath the cool exterior.

- At first, she approaches the situation with her usual no-nonsense attitude, dropping off meals and reminders as if it’s part of a business transaction. “Eat this. Sleep at least six hours. Hydrate. It’s not rocket science,” she quips, but you catch the flicker of worry in her piercing blue eyes.

- One evening, when she finds you working late into the night, Emma decides enough is enough. She strides into the room, telepathically shutting down your laptop with a smirk. “You’ll thank me later,” she says, her voice softer than usual. “You’re running yourself ragged, and I won’t stand for it.”

- When you finally admit you’ve been overwhelmed, Emma’s demeanor shifts. She places a hand on your shoulder, her touch surprisingly gentle. “You’re not invincible,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender. “Even diamonds need care to maintain their brilliance. You are no exception.”

- Emma takes a proactive role in helping you find balance, using her sharp intellect and connections to ease your workload. She also insists on luxurious self-care days, dragging you to spas or planning lavish evenings to remind you of your worth. Beneath her icy exterior lies a fiercely protective heart.

- With Emma’s unwavering confidence in you, you start to see yourself through her eyes—strong, capable, and deserving of care. Her love is a blend of tough love and indulgent comfort, reminding you that self-worth is as important as any task at hand.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby notices your neglect through your behavior—the way you brush off his jokes or seem too tired to engage with his usual antics. “Hey, you okay?” he asks casually, but his tone is laced with concern. When you shrug him off, he doesn’t push, but he starts paying closer attention.

- At first, Bobby tries to help in his own playful way, slipping snacks onto your desk or cracking jokes about needing to stage an intervention. “Don’t make me freeze your coffee until you eat something,” he teases, though his grin can’t quite hide the worry in his eyes.

- One day, when he finds you asleep at your desk, Bobby’s joking demeanor drops. He gently shakes you awake, his expression serious. “This isn’t funny anymore,” he says quietly. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. It hurts me to see you like this.”

- When you finally open up about how overwhelmed you’ve been, Bobby listens intently, his usual humor replaced with genuine care. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, his hand warm on your shoulder. “I’ve got your back, no matter what. Let me help, okay?”

- Bobby becomes your biggest cheerleader, finding creative ways to make self-care fun. He’ll freeze your water bottles into cute shapes, plan impromptu dance breaks, or drag you out for ice cream dates to remind you to take a breather. His lightheartedness feels like a balm to your stress.

- With Bobby’s love and unwavering support, you begin to find joy in the small moments again. His ability to make you smile, even on the hardest days, reminds you that life is about more than just work. Together, you learn to face challenges with a little more humor and a lot more heart.

[bat-mom-writer]

Impulses

Bruce Wayne(Husband) X Reader(Wife)

Summery: you can be very quick to act on your impulse, usually being done with a kind heart. But can sometimes lead to you and some others being hurt.

Note: Something tells me Bruce wouldn't go to therapy, but this isn't real so...

Rate: Loving Bruce, the very small almost of angst

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"So, tell me Bruce, are you happily married?"

"Of course."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well," Bruce pauses, thinking over his words carefully, "it's not exactly that simple."

The therapist's office was quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath. Bruce Wayne sat in a chair that was a little too small for his broad shoulders, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. It was a simple room, with a few plants scattered around and a faint scent of lavender in the air, but it was the last place he ever thought he'd be. He was a man who dealt with Gotham's problems from the shadows, not one who talked about his own in a well-lit space with a box of tissues within arm's reach.

"How so?" the therapist asked again, her voice gentle but firm, bringing Bruce back to the present.

He sighed. "Well, my wife… she's incredible. She's kind and she's the glue that holds our family together."

The therapist nodded, her expression neutral. "But?"

Bruce leaned back, rubbing his temples. "But she's… impulsive. She does things without considering the consequences, especially when it comes to the boys."

The therapist made a note in her pad. "Could you give me an example?"

Bruce sighed heavily, his mind racing with instances. "Once we went hiking, and she found a baby wolf, injured and alone. She insisted on bringing it back to the manor to care for it herself. Most of my sons thought it would be a great idea—until we realized it had a pack out there looking for it, and suddenly we had a bunch of very unhappy wolves on our backs."

The therapist looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I see. And how did that situation resolve?"

Bruce chuckled, a bit nervously. "Let's just say there were a lot of stitches involved. And I haven't heard anyone wanting to go camping again ever since."

The therapist's eyes widened, but she remained calm. "It seems she has a heart of gold, but maybe a bit of an overactive sense of adventure."

Bruce nodded. "Exactly. And it's not just with animals. She once tried to organize a surprise street carnival in the middle of Gotham because she thought the city needed more joy. You can imagine the chaos that ensued with all the traffic rerouting and permits she didn't bother to get."

The therapist's pen stopped mid-stroke. "Ah, so her intentions are good, but the execution could use some work."

Bruce nodded emphatically. "You have no idea. She's the love of my life, but sometimes I worry she's going to get us all into trouble. The boys look up to her, especially Dick and Damian."

The therapist leaned in slightly. "How do Dick and Damian react to her impulsive nature?"

"Dick tries to be the voice of reason, but he's young and still learning the ropes of being a responsible older brother. And Damian," Bruce sighed, "he's more like me—he's intrigued by the chaos she creates, but he's also the one who ends up getting hurt when things go awry."

The therapist nodded understandingly. "It's natural for children to look up to their parents, especially when they see the love and good intentions behind their actions. But it's also important for them to learn about boundaries and the potential consequences of impulsivity. How does your wife react when you bring this up with her?"

Bruce leaned forward, his expression a mix of affection and exasperation. "She's… well, she's stubborn. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities, and she wants to experience all of them. I get that, I do. But we can't live our lives on the edge like that, especially with the kind of enemies I've made over the years."

The therapist nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It's a delicate balance, isn't it? Wanting to keep your family safe and also allowing them the freedom to live their lives fully. How have you been managing this?"

Bruce's smile grew a bit wistful. "Well, my wife is also the lively part of our lives. Without her, the manor would be just a fortress, not a home. She brings laughter and light to every room she enters. She's the one who convinced me to let Tim build a skateboard ramp in the garage, and even though it's a hazard to my cars, I can't help but smile when I hear them all out there, having fun."

The therapist nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "It sounds like you appreciate her spirit, but it's important to establish boundaries to ensure everyone's safety. Have you tried discussing the potential dangers with her?"

Bruce leaned back, his eyes drifting to the floor. "I've tried," he admitted. "But she's… she's like a tornado of love and enthusiasm. It's hard to say no to her."

The therapist nodded, her expression understanding. "It's clear you care deeply for her and the boys. Perhaps it's time to find a way to channel that enthusiasm into safer outlets."

"I know," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair. "But she's so… so alive. It's like trying to cage a butterfly."

The therapist nodded. "It's not about caging her, Bruce. It's about guiding her. Teaching her and the boys to weigh risks and rewards. To channel their energy into something positive without endangering themselves or others."

Bruce sat in silence, contemplating her words. He knew she was right, but it was easier said than done when it came to his vibrant wife. Her zest for life was both infectious and overwhelming at times. He thought back to the street carnival she had organized. The look of joy on the citizens' faces as they played games and ate cotton candy was something he hadn't seen in Gotham in a long time.

"There not all bad," he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips. "Her impulses have led to some amazing moments, too."

"Like what?" the therapist prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Bruce's smile grew as he recalled a recent incident. "Last week, she found out about a fundraising event for an underfunded children's hospital. Without asking, she decided to host a masquerade ball at the manor. She convinced Alfred to help, and together they transformed the place into a fairy tale. The kids had the time of their lives, and we ended up raising a fortune for those kids."

The therapist returned his smile. "That does sound wonderful. It seems her spontaneity has its benefits."

Bruce nodded. "It does. But it's also a double-edged sword. I want to support her, but I also need to keep everyone safe."

The therapist leaned back in her chair. "Communication is key, Bruce. It's about expressing your concerns without squashing her spirit. Have you tried talking to her about how her impulsiveness affects you?"

Bruce sighed, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words. "I've tried, but she takes it personally. She thinks I'm trying to control her."

The therapist nodded, her expression empathetic. "It's a common misconception. Setting boundaries isn't about control; it's about care and safety. Have you framed it that way?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure. I've usually approached it from the perspective of the danger it could pose to the boys."

"It's important to express your feelings," the therapist said. "Tell her how her actions affect you and why you worry. It might help her understand your perspective better."

Bruce nodded slowly, considering her advice. It was true; he hadn't shared his own fears with her, only the potential risks to the boys. Perhaps that was where he was going wrong.

"Thank you, doctor," he said, rising from his chair. "I'll think about what you've said."

The therapist stood and offered a warm smile. "Remember, Bruce, it's about balance. And sometimes, that means taking a risk to find it."

Bruce nodded, her words echoing in his mind as he left the office and stepped into the Gotham night. The city was alive with the pulse of its inhabitants, a stark contrast to the calmness he'd just left behind. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a way to bridge the gap between his need for security and his wife's boundless spirit.

As he drove back to Wayne Manor, the grandeur of the estate came into view, the gothic architecture a stark contrast to the chaos of the city beyond its gates. The manor was more than just a home; it was a bastion of hope in a city that desperately needed it. The lights were on in the windows, a warm glow that promised sanctuary from the cold outside.

When he walked in, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You was in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you pulled a tray out of the oven. You turned to him, your face lighting up with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. "Hi, honey! How was your day?"

Bruce took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he knew he had to have. "It was… interesting," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "How about yours?"

"Oh, you know," you replied with a shrug, placing the cookies on a rack to cool. "Just the usual—keeping the boys out of trouble, planning the next big surprise for them." you winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Bruce felt a twinge of both fondness and dread. He knew that look all too well. It was the look you got when she had another harebrained scheme up your sleeve. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into an embrace. "How about we talk about these surprises together from now on?"

You tilted your head back, your smile fading a bit. "What do you mean?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "I mean, I know you love surprising the boys, and I love that about you. But sometimes, your surprises have… unintended consequences. I want to be there to support you, but I also need to make sure everyone is safe."

You leaned back, looking up at him with a slightly defensive expression. "Not all of my surprises turn out bad," you said, your voice a bit softer than before.

Bruce felt his heart squeeze at the sight of you, flour smudged on your cheek and apron, looking so earnest. He gave a tight smile, trying to ease the tension. But his face was screaming, "Are you sure?"

You took a step back, "Okay, okay, maybe most of them," you conceded. "But the good ones make up for it, right?"

Bruce sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "They do," he agreed. "But it's the potential for danger that I can't ignore. And not just for the boys, but for you too."

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the flour on your apron. "Me? I'm fine. I can handle myself."

Bruce's grip on your shoulders tightened slightly. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice serious. "How many times have you ended up in the hospital because of one of your… adventures?"

You winced, remembering the last time you had tried to rescue a cat stuck in a tree, only to end up with a broken arm and a bruised ego. "Okay, okay," you repeated, holding up your hands in surrender. "I get it. I can be a bit… much."

Bruce's expression softened, his eyes searching yours. "You're not 'much', you're amazing. I just don't want to lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in. "I know," you said, your voice small. "But what about you? You're not much different, Bruce. Maybe even worse. You go out every night as Batman, risking your life."

He stepped back, his expression unreadable. "That's different," he said firmly. "That's for the city."

"Is it?" you asked, looking up at him with a hint of challenge in your eyes. "Or is it because you've convinced yourself that it's your duty? That you're the only one who can do it?"

Bruce's jaw tightened at your question. It was a fair point, one he'd wrestled with in the quiet moments of his life. He knew that his crusade as Batman was driven by his own fears and the need to keep the city that had taken his parents safe. But he also knew that the stakes were higher for him than they were for you.

"I've been trained for that," he said finally. "You… you have the biggest heart in the world, but sometimes you don't think about the risks."

You nodded, looking down at the cookies cooling on the rack. "I know," you murmured. "But it's just so hard to resist when I see something that could bring joy to people, especially the boys."

Bruce stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. "I know your heart's in the right place," he said. "But we can't keep playing Russian roulette with our lives, not when we have so much to lose. I don't want to lose you. Or see you get hurt. I'm just asking, please, consider the risks before you act. And come to me, talk to me, let's find a way to make this work."

You searched his eyes, the gravity of his words sinking in. You knew he wasn't trying to stifle you; he was just worried. "Okay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "I'll try."

Bruce's expression relaxed a bit, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Thank you," he said softly. "Now, how about we sit down and talk about what's been on your mind? Maybe we can come up with some ideas together."

You nodded, swiping a strand of hair from your forehead. "Alright, I'll finish up on the cookies and then we can talk. Until then, want to help? Just to make sure I don't hurt myself?"

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Sure," he said, taking the spatula from your hand. "Let's do this together."

As you both worked side by side in the kitchen, the tension began to ease. You chatted about the different flavors of cookies and which ones the boys would like best, while Bruce carefully placed the finished ones on a plate. The rhythm of your conversation was soothing, and it reminded him of the first time he had met you—how your laugh had filled a room and made him feel alive again.

[niceonejames7]

the sirius watermelon fic was SO CUTE I NEED A PART TWO OF THEM GETTING TOGETHER

watermelon pyjamas pt.2

sirius finally tells you how he feels. (the classic angry confession trope) part 1

words: 1.7k

genre: literally idiots™ to lovers, roommate!sirius, hurt/comfort(?), confession, lil angst, ends with fluff.

a/n: guys this is like my first ask. eeeek! thanks for requesting and reading<3

.....

“I’m an idiot”

“You're gonna have to elaborate."

“James, please."

Sirius wasn't sure if he would classify this as a bad day. Realising he's in love with you wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, but hearing James gloat about how right he had been was.

He had managed to avoid you that evening, even the next day, internally panicking over what to do. But he was home in the evening, ignoring that stupid warm feeling in his chest when he saw your shoes in front of the door.

He entered the room, and sighed.

I'm fucked.

“Did you buy fruit themed pyjamas?" Sirius asked, his eyes moving over the cherry printed clothing. He was annoyed, not at you, mostly at himself. He couldn't find a single explanation why this affected him so much, but it did.

“I have watermelon, cherry, kiwi and peach.” You counted on your fingers.

“Wear the peach one tomorrow." Sirius grimaced at his too quick of a response, thankfully his face wasn't visible. He wasn't very proud of himself right now.

"I meant like- as a suggestion, that sounds cute, you know." He tries to explain himself, cringing on his own words.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, amused by his eagerness, “Do you want these? You seem to like them a lot." You asked cheekily.

Yeah, sure. That's exactly why I want you to wear these, Sirius though internally. His thoughts had involved you in his bed with the pants on, maybe off, but he kept that shamefully to himself.

The next couple of days felt torturous. Sirius felt like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. Anytime you touch his shoulder, lean against him, huddle together on the couch, he overthought everything.

Every touch left him breathless, every look made it hard to breath. I need help.

.

You were distraught. For some reason, for the last few days, Sirius was acting weird. He had started pulling away from you, as if watching you from a distance. No ruffling your hair, no forehead kisses, no comfortable touches. It's not as if he owed you any affection, but he had stopped.

He knew.

He knew you had feelings for him. Even if he doesn't, which you desperately hope is the truth, he has a problem. You didn't know what to do. Everytime you thought to ask him something, he'd make up an excuse and leave. He definitely didn't want to talk to you.

Lily had suggested exactly as you predicted, the usual, you should talk to him, maybe he was just busy. And other times, she had been right, but not this time. All of this had led you to the inevitable decision, something you should have done long ago. Maybe if you had, this wouldn't have happened.

……

"I'm gonna move out, Lils.” You say into the phone,"What? Why?” Lily exclaimed, rather dramatically.

You sigh,"I can't live like this. He doesn't owe me anything. I shouldn't be expecting… things from him.”

There's a slight pause before you continue,"And I can't move on if I live with him. It's too painful, and too hard."

“Here's the real reason."

Lily felt like bashing her head against a wall. How can two people be so stupid at the same time? You two were perfect for each other, both too oblivious to see the obvious.

“Listen, I really think you should just tell him, even if you move out. He wouldn't stop being your friend, honey."

You hum as she says, but part of you knows you can't say it. You don't have the guts. You hear the familiar click of the door, Sirius is home.

“Lils, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You hang up the phone, not listening to whatever she said at the end, too nervous to care.

Your hands are sweaty, and your hands are fidgeting constantly. Sirius comes in and can immediately sense your anxious energy,

“What happened, lovely?" He asks, his voice cooing as he moves over to you.

He's used to you busying yourself around the house, sometimes bobbing your head to music as you wash the dishes, or some other silly thing, he could go on.

“Sirius, we need to talk." You say quickly, your words too rushed, dreading this conversation.

Sirius' heart feels like it's going to lurch out.

Oh no.

He thinks that you know, somehow. That he had… he'd stopped saying it at a point. The impossibility of it all was a painful reminder. Now you're going to confront him. He's fucked.

“Okay…” He says, his voice too quiet now.

You rub your hands to pep yourself up, encouraging yourself to not lose track,

“I'm gonna move out."

The silence that takes over is one more overwhelming than any noise. Sirius is sure now, you definitely know. A dangerous dread spreads over his body, like a disease covering itself around him.

“It's not because of you, it's because of me." Sirius has the urge to scoff at the cliched statement, but his body feels too stiff, his eyes stuck on you.

But Sirius needed closure. So, whatever your feelings were, Sirius needed to hear why you're leaving.

“Why?" His voice is void of emotion. It breaks your heart.

A pitiful chuckle escaped you, “Sirius, you've made it clear you don't want me here."

Don't confront him. This wasn't the plan.

It wasn't. It wasn't even the reason you were moving out. But he was still your friend, he had still hurt your feelings. You were still mad at him, even though you had no right to be.

“What the hell do you mean?" Sirius asks, incredulous. How could he ever not want you here?

“We haven't talked properly in days. You answer me in singular words-"

Sirius cuts you off, feeling oddly defensive, even if what you were saying wasn't untrue,

“I've been busy-"

“Oh you've been busy before, Sirius. You never did this," You wave him off, but meeting his eyes, you say, “It's alright, I got the message, if you don't want me here-" Your voice rises despite your efforts as the conversation gets more heated,

"So what then? You're just gonna move out? Am I that terrible?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. Typical, you think. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration,

"Sirius, I told you, this isn't about you,”

Right now, he isn't keen on listening to your reasoning. In his mind, it's all his fault. It's his fault that you have to leave. He's scrambling for explanations,

"Look, I'm sorry that I'm in love with you, alright? I couldn't help myself. Hell,” He laughs, pity and amusement lacing his words, “I didn't even know until a few weeks ago.”

Sirius felt like his world was falling apart. His heart has dared to love someone, and it backfired. He doesn't regret that he loves you, he couldn't. He had no control over that, ever. He was always going to be in love with you.

He only regrets that you found out, somehow. But he supposed that was also inevitable, you weren't daft.

“The point is,” His pleading eyes look at you, “It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” His eyes are watching your face, you don't know what he might find, “Please, don't leave.”

A few moments pass, and it's as if the world is coming back to you. And one sentence rings in your head, distinct from any other sentence he's said.

I'm sorry that I'm in love with you.

“You what??” You ask, your voice full of incredulity. It feels like someone had hit you with a hammer, or pushed you off a cliff.

“I didn't want to be the guy who's your friend and then tells you he's in love with you, you know? I'm sorry that I love you, but you don't have to leave. If it matters, I will. You should stay here.” Sirius stammers out, his voice laced with pain and nervousness.

Your hands are wrapped under his, his hands clutching yours like they could stop you. They probably did stop you.

"You're in love with me?” You ask, your heart in your mouth, as if one word would be enough to tip you over.

“Please don't make me say it again." Sirius pleads, his eyes slightly watery.

Your eyes flick back and forth to both of his, searching for any kind of hesitance on his face, but it's plain. He's said those words like they were casual, as if they didn't just break your brain. There's nothing to say, or there are no words coming to your brain which are enough to convey your emotions.

A smile spreads across your lips and you bite your lips to conceal it undoing your hands from his to cradle his face,

“You’re in love with me.”

Sirius' pleading frown transforms to a confused one, and he nods, even if you hadn't asked it as a question this time.

You laugh, a watery laugh before you meet your lips to his, smiling too hard to kiss him properly.

Sirius feels like his body is on autopilot, his hands immediately cradling the back of your neck, his other one holding your wrist, his lips immediately responding to yours, as if it was all too natural.

In all his ‘foreseen’ outcomes, this hadn't been a possibility.

He smiles too, confusion still evident at the back of his mind, but he could only focus on the feeling of your lips on his, your hands holding his face.

His head tilts as he tries to get a better angle, desperate to know your tells and signs, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

You smile again, breaking the kiss but his lips chase you which makes you laugh more, and he hides his face in your shoulder, laughing along with you.

“You're in love with me," You say it quietly, as if you're confirming it to yourself, but he's too close by not to listen.

“And here I was, moving out because I wanted to get over you."

His head whips up, his face dumbstruck,

“What?"

“Mhmm." You bite your lips, and Sirius has half a mind to kiss you again.

“You're also in…." He trails off, his expression confused but you know exactly what he's asking,

“Sirius, I just kissed you."

“Yeah, but what if you just took pity-" You shut him up again, and he melts, exactly as you intended, moulding his body to yours, trying to get as close as he can. If this was your way to shut him up, he could get used to it.

"Wait, so you're not moving out right? Because-" And his words are cut off again, the same way from before.

He smiles against your lips, again, ecstatic. Giddy, even. Sirius could get used to this. Sirius could get used to kissing you as he arrives home.

All this because of fucking watermelon pyjamas.

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

The green eyed monster

Shen Qingqiu gets a kitten. Luo Binghe isn't very happy about it.

Luo Binghe is angry. Bitter. Miffed. Pissed off. Displeased. Inconvenienced.

Jealous.

This is ridiculous!

He is the Demon Realm's Emperor, he is- he defeated the Abyss!

He is the best husband anyone could ever have, Shizun has never even seen the laundry basin once! Let alone the kitchen! The brooms neither!

So why isn't he that is being cuddled and kissed on the head and receiving pats?! Where is his affection?!

It's all the fault of that stupid, useless furry animal, that pathetic kitten Shizun found meowing its head off in the bamboo forest a few weeks ago, a palm sized black creature with wide, scared eyes and a voice loud enough to echo in the whole Cang Qiong Mountain!

Of course, Shizun is so kind and loving, he couldn't have left that screaming beast to die there, especially since it was so small, so he scooped it up, placed it in his lapels (in his lapels! On his chest!) and brought it back to the bamboo house.

The terrible beast lapped up all the food it could get amd purred loud enough to drown out any conversation, cuddling up to Shen Qingqiu obsessively, sticking its face against his as if demanding kisses.

And Shen Qingqiu gave them to it! Willingly! Smiling!

Luo Binghe was going to die of rage.

The beast had even nestled in their bed - "Binghe, she's too small to sleep alone!" - and in order "not to jostle it", Shen Qingqiu had apologetically told his husband they could have sex later, the kitten needed a "safe, warm place to sleep".

The audacity of that ball of pathetic black fluff to curl up on Shen Qingqiu's chest after made Luo Binghe burn inside with rage. That was his spot!

Ever since that night, the beast had become a part of their daily lives, and Luo Binghe hated it. Shen Qingqiu was doing everything with it, keeping it in his lapels or on his lap, playing with it with his brush handles and kissing it constantly.

Kissing!

Only Binghe should get Shizun's attention, anyway, but kisses?!

He decided that the animal had to go.

Keyword: he.

Because Shen Qingqiu had visibly recoiled at the idea of sending the kitten back outside or building her a shelter in the bamboo forest, no matter how pathetically Binghe suggested it.

In fact, the way Shizun looked, so protective but so heartbroken at the thought of being separated from his pet filled Binghe with so much guilt he wished to jump into the Abyss again.

Which brings us to the present.

Shen Qingqiu is attending some peak lord meeting the details of which Luo Binghe forgot because he's been too busy staring at Shizun's lips as he spoke about it to pay attention - and he has left the beast into Binghe's care for the day.

"Make sure you give her some food by mid-day, okay?" Shen Qingqiu had said, picking up the animal to kiss its small, inky nose. The thing purred. PURRED! "And play with her lots, she's so active!"

"Yes, Shizun, please don't worry, I'll do my best..."

"If anything happens, just come get me, okay? She's so small, so I worry..."

Binghe has to fight the impulse to roll his eyes at the memory. The beast is doing quite well running around, wreacking havoc. Why does it have so much energy? Binghe is sick of cleaning up after it. And it meows so much, the noise is hurting his ears.

Could it be so bad if he accidentally left a window open...?

He immediately squashes the thought. Shizun would be devastated!

So what was he to do now?

He just watched the ball of black fluff flurry around the bamboo house like it's possessed by demons. What a terrible thing. Why does Shizun love it so much? It's just a pathetic little thing without a family or a purpose, abandoned by its kind, that fell in love with the first person that gave it a modicum of affection!

Binghe resolutely refuses to think who that reminds him of.

But the little beast is not easily swayed. It seems to know Binghe dislikes it, so it sticks to his side constantly. It sleeps on his face sometimes, or attacks his ankles when he cooks, even licks his hand when it wants pets.

Binghe hates it.

But he does it anyway - for Shizun's sake! He couldn't care less about this puny creature!

...so, you may wonder, why is he playing with it now that Shizun is not here?

That is because Shizun might realize the kitten hasn't been entertained properly and scold Binghe of course! Sure, he did laugh a bit when the kitten tumbled on its tail as it tried to catch the feather Binghe dangled in front of it, and he found it funny how it reached for his hands to bite at his wiggling fingers - but that doesn't mean anything.

Binghe flicks a finger in the little kitten's face, and instead of flinching, it sniffs his finger pad curiously before rubbing its face against it.

Disgusting.

Binghe scratches beneath its chin with a long nail and catches himself smiling as the kitten purrs and closes its eyes contently.

Terrible.

The kitten ducks its head beneath Binghe's finger and he rolls his eyes. "So needy, does Shizun spend all his days spoiling you?"

"Mrow."

He huffs, but runs his hand over the kitten's head indulgently. "You always hog all his attention, how much do you even need, huh?"

The kitten purrs loudly in response as it rubs up against Binghe's gentle hand, and he can't help caressing down the kitten's small body.

"You're too small. Why don't you grow up, hm? You're making Shizun worry."

The kitten chirps, then continues to purr, pleased, climbing up Luo Binghe's chest from his lap. But the travel up is treacherous and the kitten nearly slips - Binghe's quick reflexes catch it though.

"Be careful. How clumsy. If you get hurt, Shizun won't forgive me."

The kitten continues its journey undettered and finally nestles into the junction between Binghe's neck and shoulder. Its small body is warm and vibrating with loud purrs, and it occasionally turns to sniff at Binghe's face and lick it.

"Stop that." He says, without any bite, and scratches between the kitten's ears with two of his fingers. The animal seems to take that as encouragement and pushes its head against Luo Binghe's cheek.

He turns his head to meet small, green eyes and a purring, black nose.

He cannot resist the impulse to lay a kiss over the kitten's forehead.

Maybe she isn't so bad, after all.

--

"Binghe, I'm-"

When Shen Qingqiu walks into the room, his mouth closes and his eyes soften with fondness. Sat on the bamboo couch, clearly waiting for him, Luo Binghe's head is angled to a side, the small, black kitten tucked into his shoulder and serving as the tiniest pillow in the world. They are both asleep, wearing matching expressions of content and relaxation.

Shen Qingqiu wished he had his camera right now.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

agatha once again protecting billy with her whole body.

"I didn't think it was real! I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit! That I couldn't save her!"

The poison drips through (yes I love Succession). Generational curse, generational trauma. The pain of who knows how many centuries of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents times a thousand. It's like a boulder that you're carrying around on your shoulders, and you can't see it and you can't put a name to it, how could you? How can you possibly know why your mother drank herself stupid, why your grandmother abused her children? You were born yesterday and drank all that poison without knowing what it was, you let it take it over and you walk around spreading it to the world.

And amidst all the pain, alice only ever chose to blame and hurt herself and she was always gentle to others. her biggest regret is not having been able to save her mom! you know why alice never turned into a villain like agatha? because her mom loved her. as simple and as that. lorna was so ill-equipped to save alice, she didn't know what she was up against, she was in a world of pain herself. and she went above and beyond to show her child how infinitely precious and loved she was.

oh wow, I usually say I'm crying as a figure of speech, but I am crying for real thinking about this.

lilia who has lived so long and experienced her big share of suffering, knowing all too well what alice is going through. there's so much compassion in her voice

jen stubbornly refusing to care about anything but her own pain, which is actually a very human way to respond to trauma? it's like she's at a crossroads and it's up to her to choose whether she goes back to being the force of good she used to be, or whether she goes down agatha's same path. I say it's up to her because it ultimately is, but she was so lucky finding this coven and community at such a crucial moment. agatha didn't have any of it.

no! don't apologize, you beautiful, generous soul! the sense of guilt and inferiority complex is real

agatha's face when billy is attacked

she starts running toward him even before alice

but when she gets there she freezes and lets alice go check on him

when she sees he's fine, she sighs and collapses against the door, clutching her chest.

lilia is really starting to get attached to everyone, and throughout her life love and loss have always been inherently linked. she already knows she's going to lose them.

okay jen refusing to leave the circle is still funny, I'll give her that

through all this rio has been watching and studying agatha, she always does. she knows that her diabolically smart wife loves to be in charge and come up with plans. she's being encouraging!

look at how small alice is! she's been helping and consoling billy just a moment ago, despite being miserable herself.

first of all, that's hilarious, so jot that down. second of all, you know agatha is so relieved she has to put on a show instead of doing something icky like, idk, sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. and look at rio at the drums, she's already put all the clues together as well

oooh, she's doing the thing! she's detectiving! agatha harkness ladies and gentlemen, her hobbies are women, murder and puzzles.

and who gives her the solution? who has had millennia to study and commiserate human love and grief? she says it and she looks at agatha so pointedly.

The song that's so irrevocably linked to Nicky's memory, the song that she's been desecrating and using as a means to kill. A mother took it and poured all her love into it and made it pure again. Agatha has to live with that now, and you know that's going to take root inside her and affect her no matter what

this whole performance is patti going I might be singing backup again but watch me be a total diva about it

I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

you'd think that alice should sing lead vocals here, seeing as it's her trial and her mom's song and all. WELL THINK AGAIN

the massive ego agatha has, honestly. you gotta respect that.

the feeling when you are the only normal person in a group of total hooligans. did I already say how gorgeous sasheer looks in that outfit? no I didn't. you are an apparition, sasheer.

but I want the song to have its own separate entry so hold on tight, brb

go to episode 4 part 5

[moowmoon]

DOCTOR

— spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

— summary: she was with a cold, and he was her personal doctor.

— c/w: sickness, cold and fever

— w/c: 0.9k

— a/n: hello! how are you guys doing? i had fun writing his one and i kinda wish that spencer was here taking care of me lol! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts, my ask box is always open to talk/share things! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there's any mistake!

The rain drummed softly against the windows, filling the apartment with a constant, comforting rhythm. Spencer entered the living room, his footsteps silent on the carpet. He saw her lying on the sofa, curled up under a blanket, her face slightly flushed with fever. A pile of crumpled tissues rested on the coffee table next to an empty mug.

"How are you feeling?" Spencer asked, his voice low but full of concern. He knelt beside the sofa, studying the tired face in front of him.

"Terrible. But at least you're here." the reply came out hoarse but accompanied by a weak smile.

Spencer smiled back, gently pressing his hand to her forehead. "It's still warm, but better than this morning. I'll make some more tea."

Without waiting for an answer, he got up and disappeared through the kitchen door. From the sofa, she followed his movements with heavy eyes, feeling the heat of Spencer's concern as warm as the blanket.

He walked back into the room with measured steps, carefully balancing a tray in his hands. The mug of tea was spewing fine spirals of steam, and beside it lay some simple but inviting cookies. He stopped beside the sofa and watched her for a moment. She was partially covered, one hand loosely holding the blanket while the other rested on her chest, rising and falling in a rhythm that indicated persistent tiredness.

"I've brought you something." Spencer's voice was low, but full of tenderness.

She opened her eyes slowly and, although she didn't have the strength to move much, she managed to give a weak smile and get up slowly. Spencer put the tray on the side table, picked up the blanket, and carefully arranged it, pulling it up to her shoulders.

"You didn't have to��" the voice came out hoarse, but grateful.

"Of course I needed it." he leaned over and rested his palm lightly on her forehead. "The fever has started to come down. That's good." a small but sincere smile appeared on his lips before he picked up the mug and handed it to her. "Drink it slowly. It's still warm."

As she brought the mug to her lips, Spencer sat down next to her on the sofa, close enough for their shoulders to touch. He watched intently as if monitoring every little movement, and when she took a cautious sip, he spoke, his voice a reassuring whisper.

"Just rest. The paperwork can wait, and you don't have to worry about anything now. I'm here."

She stared at him, her eyes shining with something other than tiredness. A feeling of comfort and gratitude that only Spencer could offer at that moment.

After a few minutes, the room was plunged into a comfortable dimness, with only the soft light of a lamp filling the corners. Spencer was sitting on the sofa, a book open in his hands, his voice low and calm as he read.  Each word came out with an almost hypnotic cadence, projecting tranquil images into the room.

Still wrapped in the blanket, she leaned on his shoulder, adjusting her head so that she could hear the warm timbre of his voice more closely. She sighed, gradually relaxing as the tension left her body.

Without interrupting his reading, Spencer let one of his hands slide down her back, his fingers drawing slow, meticulous circles, a gesture that seemed as automatic as it was intentional.

"You know I could listen to this all day, right?" her voice sounded muffled against his shoulder, laden with tiredness but also a slight humor.

Spencer paused and smiled, closing the book for a moment. He watched her with quiet affection, his eyes filled with a fondness that needed no words to understand.

"And I'd read all day if it would help you get better faster."

She let out a low, husky laugh, her head sinking further into his shoulder. Sensing the movement, Spencer adjusted his arm to wrap around her completely, holding her firmly and gently.

"It's working," she murmured, almost falling asleep.

Spencer didn't reply, just resumed reading, continuing to trace those comforting little circles; the sound of his voice blending with the quiet rhythm of the pages being turned and the rain.

Her breathing became slow and rhythmic, signaling that sleep had finally overcome the discomfort of fever. Her head rested on Spencer's shoulder, her features, once marked by fatigue, now softened into an expression of peace.

He remained motionless for a few moments, listening to that calm, steady sound. Carefully, he adjusted the blanket once more, pulling it up to cover her shoulders and making sure she was warm.

Tilting his head slightly, he observed every detail of her sleeping face. The lips parted, the eyelashes casting delicate shadows against the still slightly flushed skin. There was something deeply comforting about that moment of stillness as if the whole world had been put on pause so that he could be there, exactly where he needed to be.

Spencer sighed softly, a sound of relief mixed with gratitude. He placed a soft kiss on the top of her head before leaning back further on the sofa, the comforting weight against him bringing a sense of belonging.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, even though he knew the words wouldn't be heard. Even so, saying them out loud seemed important, almost like a promise.

As the rain continued its gentle rhythm against the windows, Spencer stood there, his arms tightly around the one he loved, treasuring that moment of peace.

[azen13]

[Not really sure if this counts as a request but here we go] Who’s your favourite male yandere(s) from genshin? And could you talk about why?

Ah I love this question! Thank you so much for asking. I've been really busy with college lately so I haven't gotten a chance to write recently, but after this week I should be finished with a lot of tests until finals. Just to clear things up, I absolutely accept questions like this! I feel like I haven't really shared a lot about myself as a person so I'm hoping to do more of that in the future.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

CW: Yandere Themes, Spoilers for Wriothesley's Story Quest

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I'd say I have four yanderes who I really like, and then a few who I like but I'm not obsessed with. Those four being Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Zhongli. Beyond the fact that I just like them as characters (and I'm gay asf lol) they're the most interesting yanderes to me, in part because of how much power they have in their societies.

Alhaitham is really interesting to me because there's this personal conflict between his values and beliefs and the idea of falling in an obsessive love. Alhaitham is inherently self-centered, not narcissistically so, but to the point where he prioritizes and values his time alone. In doing so though, he's also extremely lonely. I think a lot on how Alhaitham would react to someone who's able to match his sharpened blade of wit with one of their own, how he might exchange parries and blows with that person and find himself needing to understand the nature of their mind. I also think about how he'd react to someone who struggles with taking care of themself, or overworking: how he'd try to get you to stop doing so much and trying to please everyone. If his lover can keep up with his intelligence, he treats the romance like a game of chess, lining up his pieces to topple over the defenses surrounding your heart. His possession of you is slow and methodical, like vines growing on walls, slowly creeping over every inch. If his lover's wisdom is spent in other areas, then he's quick to snatch them up and take them home. While I think he's quick to get you under his control, it's harder for him to make them fall in love and surrender to his calculating embrace.

Neuvillette brings a really interesting element that I like to think about when I'm writing for him: immortality. He's a dragon who's lived for centuries, and that element of the slow passage of time is really fun to both write and think about. I really like to think of Neuvillette as a really, really soft yandere; he's seen humanity at its worst, and doesn't want you, the beautiful thing you are, to be tainted by all of its ugliness. Besides, he just can't help himself, what with his draconic instincts.

Out of the four, Wriothesley is the character I'd say I have the hardest time writing for because it's harder for me to explain why he feels the way he does. The working justification I have is that being betrayed by his adoptive family and living his whole life in Meropide made him incredibly lonely and developed a lot of abandonment issues that remained unearthed for years, as he didn't really make many close friends in Meropide. Then you come along though, and for once, Wriothesley has something good, something he doesn't want to give up. He's definitely one of the hardest yanderes to escape, what with Meropide being a literal prison. I think he definitely takes extra precautions when it comes to you, though, because he's so scared of losing them. Beneath his gruff exterior, there's a heart of gold, a man who only craves your complete affection and attention.

And then there's Zhongli, who was actually the character who got me into writing Yanderes. The thing about Zhongli is that as a yandere, you're practically powerless, unless you're on a similar or higher level of power/divinity to him. Even if you exceed his power, you're still going to have a very difficult time escaping his control. With how long he's lived and how much he's seen, he knows the only way to guarantee your safety is to isolate you from Teyvat entirely. Zhongli has no qualms about doing this, regardless of how much you might protest. Because when you've lost everything but Zhongli, you'll eventually—and inevitably—crumble into his arms. Only then will Zhongli put you back together, shaping you to be his perfect lover. Zhongli's greatest power as a yandere is his patience.

[strawberryblue-blog]

A to Z —Pau Cubarsi.

summary: SFW alphabet with Pau.

warning: none. cute, soft, fluff, headcanon.

words count: 1k.

A - Affection (How affectionate is he? How does he show affection towards you?)

He was not very affectionate at first, he is very shy and was embarrassed to invade your space. Although he is learning to get attached and give you lots of cuddles but he still feels a little embarrassed. He prefers you to be the one to show it first.

B - Best friend (What would it be like if he were your best friend? How would the friendship begin?)

Probably if you were friends, Pau would be the shy friend who wouldn't approach you but after you became friends he wouldn't let you go. He is good, caring and kind, he would be your best friend forever.

C - Cuddles (Does he like cuddles? What would his cuddles be like?).

He likes them, he has to admit it. He gets so intimate and affectionate, he's a kid and likes it when you cuddle his hair, back or nape of his neck.

D - Domestic (Does he want to settle down? How good is he at cooking and cleaning, etc?)

Yes, he would like to move in with you in the future. He's still learning, he's still very young and living alone costs, but he would definitely do anything from home to help you.

E - End (If you had to break up with your partner, how would you do it?)

You would feel very sad, too much. But sometimes relationships wear out and I don't think he would cut you off. He would hold out until he tries to get it back or you are the one to leave him but Pau would rather break his heart than yours.

F - Fiancé (How does he feel about commitment? How long would it take for him to marry/ask you to marry him?)

Honestly at this age it terrifies him. He is very young and getting married is a huge decision that takes time and training. But yes he would propose in the very distant future.

G - Gentle (How kind is he, both physically and emotionally?)

Too much. Everything about Pau screams kindness. He is a cuddly little bear even if he is very shy, if he trusts you enough he will be like a baby in your arms.

H - Hugs (Does he like hugs? How often does he do it and what is it like?)

Of course he likes them. He likes to feel your warmth on his body when you hug him, how his muscles relax and how they fit perfectly when he surrounds you.

I - I love you (How quickly did he say the L word?).

It wasn't that fast. Probably because you were the first person he really said it to and he struggled a lot to say it to you. Maybe out of fear or maybe out of embarrassment.

J - Jealousy (To what extent does he/she get jealous? What does he/she do when jealous?)

He is not a jealous person but if he sees someone else trying to get close to you with other intentions, he might be somewhat moved like anyone else. But he usually isn't.

K - Kissing (What are his kisses like? Where does he kiss you? Where does he like you to kiss him?)

Shy but warm and soft kisses. On your forehead especially, hands and cheek, with small touches full of love and energy.

L - Little ones (How is he with children? Would he like to have them in the future?)

He is quite good with children, maybe because he is still one and understands them. Yes he would like to but as I said before, in the very future.

M- Mornings (How are the mornings with him?)

Mornings with laughter and shy good morning kisses while rolling in the sheets and snuggling with fiaca. When he wakes up with you he is in a good mood and could stay with you a while longer even knowing he is late for his commitments.

N - Night (How are the nights with him?)

Quiet and relaxed. Probably watch movies or play board games to have good times together, would go to bed late and wouldn't mind you talking all night.

O - Open (When did he start revealing things about himself? Does he say everything all at once or does he reveal little things little by little)?

It took him quite a while because of his shyness. He is a person who listens more than he talks but after trusting you, he would say anything he wants to know and tell you everything for advice or support.

P - Patience (How easily he gets angry?)

He never gets angry. Neither with you, nor with others. He is a person who would never lose his temper as long as no one would hurt you or treat you badly.

Q - Quizzes (How much would he remember about you? Does he remember all the details or does he forget unimportant things?)

Everything. He knows everything about you and remembers every second of your moments together because you are important to Pau.

R - Remember (What is your favorite moment of your relationship?)

He really likes when you go to the court to support him, that's definitely his favorite memory of his life. When you wear his jersey, when you shout his name, when you tell him how proud you are of him.

S - Safety (Is he very protective? How would he protect you? How would he like to be protected?)

The usual. He wants you to feel safe with him, so he might be a little protective when they are out and about, putting his arms around your shoulders or holding your hand tightly. Also when his friends are around, he usually hugs you around the waist or rests your back on his chest.

T - Try (How much effort does he put into appointments, anniversaries, gifts, daily chores?).

He is very detail-oriented because he loves to give you with your likes. He would buy every single thing for you, even clothes or food, whenever he goes to your house he always comes with something in his hands to give you.

U - Ugly (What are some of your bad habits?)

Sometimes getting lost in a fixed point maybe. Sometimes you're talking to him and Pau gets lost on you, it's like he gets paralyzed and you have to repeat things again.

V - Vanity (To what extent does he care about his appearance?)

It's quite embarrassing for him but he tends to worry a lot about his looks, maybe because he's young and doesn't feel comfortable with it yet. How for example, he didn't know how much he liked her smile before but now that you know that you love her, Pau starts to like it too.

W - Whole (Would he feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. After he gets used to you, it will be hard for him to leave you alone for so many days because of his travels abroad. He would call you at night or text you every hour to know what you are doing, where you are, etc. He hopes to come home soon to see you again and hug you.

X - Xtra (A random headcanon for him).

He likes to cook with you, especially desserts. He is very caring and likes to spend quality time while making yummy things, learns from you and is really fun to cook with.

Y - Yuck (What are some things he wouldn't like, either in general or from his partner?)

He wouldn't like it if you let your studies get the best of you. He understands that sometimes it's hard and you want to give up but Pau would support you to keep going and not stress out, that it's not all rosy sometimes and that's okay. He also wouldn't want you to stop studying so you can go see him, he wouldn't allow you to spend your time on the game while you have to study for important exams.

Z - Zzz (What are your sleeping habits?).

Being the little spoon is one of his cutest habits. Or sleeping on your chest, hugging your torso tightly. He feels warm and likes it when you gently stroke his hair until he falls asleep.

[kalliandrae]

I have never written anything about Warhammer 40000 before, but I found myself lost in the loophole that is the Primarchs. So I can't help myself but write about some of them. Especially those I like the most.

It will be a few short headcanons about those I like the most, how would they treat you after you had a long and tiring day. In no particular order here it is.

Roboute Guilliman:

He would likely approach the situation with his typical mix of logic and affection. He would sit down with you and ask how your day was, listening intently to your response. Once he has a grasp on how stressful your day was, he would offer a comforting gesture, like a warm hug or holding your hand, gently rubbing your much smaller hands and listening to everything you say. He definitely would offer advice to you, as well.

He would also also respect if you want to spend some time alone, but he would make sure you have your favorite snacks and drinks available when you need it. Or when you no longer want to be alone and want to... sleep with him instead of in your lonely room.

Horus Lupercal:

Horus is known for his charismatic and loving nature, and he would go out of his way to make his loved one feel relaxed and cared for after a tiring day. He would be attentive and supportive, Listen to any thoughts, concerns, or frustrations you may have and he is offering a listening ear and reassuring words of comfort and encouragement. He would offer to massage your shoulders, applying soothing oils to loosen any tension in your shoulders, prepare a warm cup of tea or other beverage to help you relax. He would also prepare a relaxing bath with scented candles.

And if you are feeling up to it, he could also arrange a romantic, candlelit dinner or a relaxing night in together, filled with laughter, cuddles, and gentle kisses. ;)

Lorgar Aurelian:

After a tiring day, Lorgar would treat you with extreme care and sweetness. He would draw you a warm bath and tenderly wash your hair, then massage your tension away. He would light the room with candles, and softly recite poetry or sacred verses to soothe your tired mind.

Lorgar would then lay you on the bed, gently wrapping you in a blanket and whispering how much he loved and adored you until you drifted off to sleep. He would stay by your side, watching over you like a guardian. Some may would say he is bordering on worshipping you by how much he adores you. Probably he actually does that, as well.

It's Lorgar we speak about, after all.

Rogal Dorn:

Knowing Dorn, he would likely take a more practical and hands-on approach to showing his love after a tiring day. He'd be very stoic and reserved in his demeanor, but his actions would speak louder than words. He definitely won't engage in romantic gestures, he would focus on ensuring that his loved one's basic needs are met, so that you are fes, rested and comfortable. He would take care of any practical needs or tasks that need to be done.

He definitely would make sure your living space is neat and orderly. You would probably never find it in any other way. His love language is one of practicality and reliability, offering a steadfast presence and support rather than grand gestures or expressive displays. He probably couldn't even do those kind of displays, anyway.

Ferrus Manus:

After a tiring day, Ferrus Manus would likely approach you one in a reserved and stoic manner, not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Nonetheless, he would likely show his concern for you in his own way, offering a firm but comforting touch, a brief but genuine smile, which very few ever had the luck to see, or simply inquiring if you are well.

He would likely prioritize practicality in tending to your needs, such as offering food, a comfortable place to rest, or suggesting a practical solution to any problems you may be facing. In the end, his way of expressing love would be through actions rather than words.

Perturabo:

Okay, he is much more tougher, given his personality, but let's see... You somehow managed to get his attention and his love. However, it is more difficult than with the other mentioned Primarchs.

Perturabo, being the kind of Primarch that he is, would likely handle his partner's exhaustion with a no-nonsense approach. He'd encourage efficiency and practicality.

So it is not unexpected that he wouldn't shower you with love, you knew what you were getting into, weren't you? Of course you were.

But let's not be harsh. Even he has some *relaxing* activities like tactical games or perhaps even building something as a way to unwind. And if he is in a good enough mood, maybe you can join him. He'd be direct about his expectations and would likely encourage you to be productive and efficient with this downtime.

... or if he is in a bad mood, he'd grow even more distant than usual. He'd probably just dismiss you with a "I'm busy with my own tasks, don't bother me." He'd probably feel guilty about it, but never talk about it.

But probably the next day you'd notice that he is a bit less harsh than usual.

This is the first time I ever wrote headcanons, and it is much harder than I originally thought it to be — but it is also really fun! I am not sure how much I succeeded in writing them accurately, I hope it's not that bad and it was an enjoyable read!

[jeonscatalyst]

Jungkook didn’t say anything about Jin’s album publicly but I don’t see anyone questioning his love for Jin. He literally didn’t say a word about Tae’s album last year either but I don’t see anyone questioning his love for him yet people want to question the one he spent the entire solo era hyping, literally keeping up with all his songs and purposely going live to watch him

becsuse jimin is the one he is supposedly dating. that's why it's different when it comes to jimin. and want to know why we don't question jimin? because jimin has congratulated jk SO MUCH before. I mean he posted jks damn BB #1 to his instagram feed and I am only going to name that one thing but we all know how much jimin has gone out of his way to publicly acknowledge jks achievements that dates back to years ago. sue us for wanting the same in return for him 🤷‍♀️

I find it hilarious how we can't say or question anything about jk without you guys bringing up jimin when we all know jimin is on a different level of emotional availability and affection than anyone else in the group, why compare when they can't compete? at least you admitted jhope is jimin's jimin. first time I see a jikooker say that and rightfully so, jhope is the only person that returns the somewhat same energy that jimin gives him so cheers

Anon,

You lack reading comprehension don’t you? Didn’t you clearly see me say it isn’t very much in Jk’s nature to do stuff like that as far as we know, yet Jimin is still the highest person he congratulates or Hypes publicly. What? You want Jk to behave exactly like Jimin before you acknowledge that he does something for Jimin? Even if that is your angle, you still don’t have a point because Jk has always been very supportive of Jimin. Go through all the years and you would see at least one video of Jk singing each and everyone of Jimin’s songs, publicly supporting him which is something he doesn’t really do for others.

Anon, listen, I didn’t give birth to you and the likes of you so it’s really not my job or responsibility to educate you on how life works. Human beings are different and show their love and affection in different ways. For Jimin, words of affirmation come very easy to him but not Jk. Jk is more of an acts of service person and if you paid any attention to the things Jimin has said about Jungkook through out the years, you would have known just how much Jungkook encourages and congratulates, and honestly supports Jimin.

Problem with some of you is that you like eye service. You think it isn’t genuine if someone doesn’t stand on a podium and yells how much he likes or loves something. You think that people always have to scream at the top of their lungs about how much they love people or care about them before you believe they do but life doesn’t work that way.

No argument you are coming up with holds water because Jimin is still the highest person Jungkook publicly supports and hypes even though he really isn’t one to do all that anyway. Let’s end this argument here because I feel like I am arguing with a 4 year old. It is 2024, and we still have to spend this much time defending jikook’s bond? Jesus!

[m0rkl]

The People We Become || Portal!Stanley AU

Hi, mom said its my turn with the Portal Stanley!AU. I have no art skills to accompany, but I sure can yap about it.

The Portal Incident

When Stan pushes Ford into the portal, he grabs Ford's sleeve, trying to yank him out. He's successful, but stumbles into range of the portal himself and is pulled in. Ford screams for him and runs to try and shut down the portal. Stan tries grabbing onto anything he can to save himself, but starts yanking at wires, causing the portal to go haywire. It explodes as he's pulled in, knocking out Ford in the process.

When he wakes up, the portal is in ruins and Ford has no idea if Stan made it through or died in the explosion.

He panics, unsure of what to do and realizes he'll have to more or less start the portal from scratch if he wants to save Stanley.

While this is all going on, a little ways away, Fiddleford is on his own, contemplating erasing Stanford and their work together from his mind completely. When he feels the explosion, he rushes to the lab and finds Stanford panicked and distraught. He hastily explains what happened and tries to get Fiddleford to help him build the portal again so they can save Stanley, but Fidds knows he can't. It's too dangerous.

They end up getting into a huge fight and Fiddleford erases Ford's memory of the past month. The last thing Ford remembers is realizing he was wrong about Bill and his research needs to be taken away. Fiddleford tells him he already destroyed the portal and its over. Ford, being injured and unwell from everything leading up to the incident as well as the explosion, figures Fiddleford is correct and just passes the hell out.

Fiddleford locks up the basement and locks away the memory gun away, feeling guilty for erasing Ford's memories.

As he's taking care of Ford, Fiddleford hides away any evidence that Stan ever came and puts his car in the junkyard, thinking its all for Ford's own good.

Stanley Enters The Portal

Stan enters the portal and is immediately lost to the space between dimensions. However, he has Ford's journal with him still. As he's floating through space-time, Bill notices the blip of the portal opening and comes to his location.

He tries to con Stan, saying the journal was something he and Ford wrote together. Bill says if Stan gives him the journal, he can take him home! Of course, Stan knows all too well that if a deal sounds too good to be true, it usually is. He tells Bill to fuck off and when he doesn't Stan punches him in the goddamn eye. Bill is momentarily more shocked than anything and Stan goes tumbling into another section of time-space.

He ends up in a sort of central hub for interdimensional travelers and is pretty much immediately arrested for not having any type of identification or trans-dimensional travel authorization. Is it fair? No, of course not, but when has any kind of law actually been fair?

Stan ends up in interdimensional-space jail, but criminals are criminals where ever you go and Stan is more or less in his element here. He charms enough people to get in with a crew and they eventually break out.

Stan gets some illegal documentation to keep him from getting arrested on the spot again, then goes on to continue the same type of life he was living before, just this time ✨Sci-Fi✨

I have a lot more on this, talking about how Ford and Stan's personalities are affected by their different lives and the various differences in relationships. Also all of Stan's adventures across dimensions! ...I would like to name this AU but I have no idea what to call it yet

[darknessisafriend]

Everything will be okay - Commodus x you

Here's some Commodus piece! right in time as Gladiator II is out. I started writing this imagine a while ago, in August which was a particularly rough time where I lost my grandpa, I needed to write about it, but it took time, time to start grieving as well. (so obviously TW death)

I dedicate this writing to my grandpa and anyone who faced or is facing the hardship of losing a loved one. Everything will be okay loves ❤️

Everything will be okay

You were taking care of flowers in the imperial garden; you had chased slaves and gardeners wanting to help you out. Your face was puffy and red, your eyes swollen and a headache splitting your skull. You were trying to keep your mind distracted, away from the brutal shock of the news, the pain filling your whole being. The blank state of your mind was soon interrupted by a rumbling of armors and quick steps, your heartbeat quickening, you knew who it was.

“Leave!” ordered the voice of Commodus, your husband, making any person leave the gardens, even his praetorians. Before you turned around his strong arms wrapped around you, squeezing you tight. You clenched your jaw, feeling your heart going wilder, your eyes turning watery, unable to say anything, you bit your trembling lower lip.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” he breathed, pain filled his voice too, as if anything that affected you, touched him too. He gently turned you around in his arms, cupping your face to meet your eyes. The moment he did, you let out a strangled sob, tears escaping your eyes. You wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him, desperately trying to suppress the pain as your tears wet his chest plate. Commodus let go of you, undoing the laces of his armor, briefly parting from you to take it off and just as quickly as you parted, his arms were around you again. This time you could feel his reassuring warmth, his quick breathing, and that is all you needed in that moment. Commodus remained silent; he knew there were no words enough to express the comfort he wanted to give you, how much he wanted your pain to go away, take it all so you could smile again.

“I planted new flowers, Damascus Roses, I…sorry for disturbing your day…” you spoke after some, time, parting from him to pick a few leaves from plants, a way to distract yourself, trying to stop crying. Your husband approached, resting his hand on the small of your back, understanding.

“They are truly beautiful; I have no doubt they shall blossom soon. And you did not disturb me, you are always my priority.” He reassured you, kissing your temple. You looked down at the leaves between your fingers, tearing them into small pieces.

“I never expected father to die so soon…he was healthy…I used to say he would live close to a hundred years old…and now…” you then spoke, silent tears streaming down your cheeks “I couldn’t even see him…talk to him…one last time…I had so much to say…so many hugs to give…” you sniffled, biting the inside of your cheek, wanting to stop crying, but you couldn’t, the pain was too immense.

“Y/N. He knows you loved him dearly; I have seen you send him the letters; you have done your best. But the gods…decided to call him to their side as he was worthy of them…please do not hurt yourself with these thoughts…” he tried, his hand keeping on rubbing your back soothingly, guiding you to a marble bench to sit. You instantly leaned against him, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. “I know how you feel. I had a different relationship with my father but for so long, I craved to hug him, to speak about how I felt, to tell him how much I loved him and what I would be ready to do for him…yet I never really could, only when I lost him, I let it all out and it was too late. But you my love, you have been a good daughter, I am sure that from the Underworld he smiles at you.” He soke softly, his eyes wet, sharing your pain, your distress.

“In my religion, there is no underworld, but Heaven and Hell...I hope he is in Heaven; it is similar to what you call the Elysian Fields.” You explained between sniffles “He deserves to be in peace, he was always good to us and trusted you blindly without even knowing you really.” You smiled through tears. “I wish you had met him; he would have liked you…” your voice shook again, struggling to speak those words. Commodus looked down, swallowing his saliva, his other hand reaching for yours, his fingertips playing with your wedding ring.

“It is not too late to pay my respects to him. I could…Y/N just say the word I will bring back his body to you.” He let out, taken by passion as always, unafraid of the challenges he could face. “I can bring him to you so you can embrace him one last time, bury him as your beliefs requires.”

You turned your head to him; not sure you had heard correctly. You met his eyes; he was terribly serious. He was offering you a way to grieve, to make your peace. You pinched your lips together, searching his eyes, amazed by the man you had the luck to call your husband.

“Say the word Y/N. You only need to command, and I shall be your hand.” he said again, confirming his intentions, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it devotedly. You swallowed down, torn, in this hard moment you wished for Commodus to remain by your side, yet to bring back the one you lost eased your spirit, a final goodbye.

“Bring him back to me, my love…” you finally managed to say “Please…” you whimpered, your hand cupping his cheek briefly, sorry to make him leave. And even if his eyes showed signs of yearning, he spoke none of it and stood, placing himself in front of you before kneeling, putting his fist on his heart.

“Your word is my command.” He vowed, looking at you determined, taking your hand and kissing it with equal devotion. “I leave the Empire in your capable hands my love. I will bring back your father.”  He promised, and stood, turning away, calling his scribes and guards, giving instructions as he put his armor back on, ready to ride to Gaul to get your father’s body. He instructed that a priest had the body to be embalmed or preserved until he arrived so he could process to the roman rituals for the dead to allow the soul to pass and not remain wandering in the mortal world. He instructed as well that word doesn’t come out that he left Rome, for your safety; to pretend he was sick and that in the meantime his wife assisted by his counselors would rule.

And just as fast as he had arrived by your side, Commodus had left, it would take about a week or a little more. Thankfully as Commodus had left, you inherited most of his workload, drowning yourself into letters he received, papers from the Senate and more. It distracted you, to the point you worked yourself to exhaustion, otherwise when night came you would cry yourself to sleep, it was normal after all but in those moments, you missed Commodus’ comfort more than ever.

As days passed you grew anxious, where was Commodus? Did he manage to obtain your father’s body? In which state? Would he even be able to bring him back? You stared at the sleeping city from your balcony, your tired eyes looking out for any movement, any singular event…

“Your majesty.” You were startled by a knock on your door, in the middle of the night, it was rather unexpected and even worrying. No one woke the lords in the middle of the night unless it was extremely urgent. Your pulse instantly quickened at that thought. You rushed to the door to open it, not bothering to cover yourself.

“Did something happen?” you asked, your eyes traveling between your chambermaid and the messenger, looking for any clues of bad news. The messenger bowed, averting his eyes at your light clothing.

“Forgive my presence so late in the night, highness. But I was required to reach you as soon as possible and by any means from the Emperor himself.” He apologized, your heart skipping a beat, your hands rolling into fists anxiously. “The Emperor is on his way to the palace, he should reach you before dawn. And whishes to inform you that he brings back your father with him.” He announced, slightly widening his eyes as you froze, your eyes glassy and tears starting to escape. Your chambermaid sent the messenger away, grabbing a warm shawl to cover your shoulders as you walked outside of the sleeping quarters. You couldn’t rest, you couldn’t stand still for as long as Commodus wasn’t standing in front of you.

And for what seemed like endless hours, you paced restlessly in the halls of the palace, your mind imagining the moment you would see your father, what state was he in? would you lose all sanity at the sight?

From afar you could hear the rapid footsteps of a dozen horses, so you rushed to the entrance of the inner court, ordering the doors to be opened. The group instantly entered, each carrying torches, except for one, Commodus, his horse was dragging a tiny carriage and on it…a silhouette, wrapped entirely in linens…your father.

“Y/N” you barely heard him call your name as he stopped close to you. Your eyes were fixed onto the cadaver of your father, your heart pumping into your ears, your body frozen in place, scared to approach, scared to touch the icy skin, scared to lift the veil and see his face…

“Y/N.” repeated Commodus louder, as he got off his horse, nearly collapsing on his knees in front of you, his fist on his heart, he caught your gaze to make you look at him. “I brought your father to you…I thank the gods proper care was done to preserve his body. Do not fear to lift the veil as he seems to be only sleeping.” He spoke with confidence to reassure you, it had to be done, to help you grieve properly.

“Thank you...” you murmured, your lower lip trembling as tears began to fall freely, blurring your vision almost entirely. Commodus stood up and came to stand by your side, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he made you approach the corpse.

“I am here. Do not be afraid.” He murmured, licking his lips almost nervously as he tried to do a cross sign to accustom your beliefs and respect your father as well. Then, he approached his hands, carefully uncovering the face of your father. It was like sleeping as he described…but more pale, quieter…at least you were glad to notice his face didn’t show any traces of suffering.

“He didn’t suffer, the healers told me he was gone in his sleep.” Informed Commodus as if he had read your thoughts. He took a step back to allow you to come closer, your hands trembled and your heartbeat so fast that you felt breathless. This was real, he was really dead in front of you and yet it felt surreal, like a nightmare you would wake up from.

“Papa...” you cried out, your hand going to brush over his gray hair, soothingly caressing them. “I am so sorry…so sorry we couldn’t talk one last time…sorry I couldn’t hug you…sorry I couldn’t be there...” you sobbed, tears falling on his burial shirt.

You stayed there for an hour, maybe more, touching him gently, speaking to him; during that time, Commodus remained standing by your side, ordering a few things to his praetorians so you two were left alone in that painful moment. As your eyes had no tears left, a headache splitting your skull, you turned to your husband, throwing yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest, his tunic absorbing the wetness of your face as he squeezed you tight, kissing the top of your head, soothing you the best he could for long minutes.

“I have ordered my praetorians to fetch a Christian priest. We will have him buried in their cemetery if you wish.” He spoke quietly. You squeezed your eyes shut, moved by his care “Thank you...” you murmured against his chest before lifting your head to look at him. Only then you noticed the bags under his eyes, the dust covering his skin and clothes, his shoulders weren’t as straight as usual, he was exhausted, probably pushing through his limits to remain standing; he had been so fast, he had surely ridden days and nights, without truly resting. That was something you had always loved with Commodus and yet it also worried you; when he had an idea in mind, he would lose sleep and hunger until he had reached his goal.

“We should go prepare for the burial, you could rest a bit, my love…” you murmured tenderly, so thankful he was there for you, so thankful you he had chosen you as his wife. You headed with your husband to your private quarters, taking hold of his hand, a comfortable silence between you.

“Bring me a warm water basin, and the necessary to wash. Also, black clothing for the emperor.” You ordered your chambermaid and removed his armor piece by piece, dust flying all around the room, the scent of sweat reaching your nose. You threw away his under-armor tunic and undergarments as well.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this…” protested Commodus, as he understood your plan. Not wanted to be a burden on your heavy spirits already.

“You brought my father back to me, all the way from Gaul to here.”  You simply replied, dampening the washing cloth in the warm scented water “Besides, it distracts me. I need to think about something else for a bit, clear my mind.” You added softly, your eyes burning from too much crying every time you blinked.

“How could I face you again if I didn’t even have the time nor will to do this for you? I couldn’t bear it…then, I wanted to meet him properly.” He spoke softly as you washed his feet, soundly exhaling in relief, his muscles relaxing.

“Circumstance could have been better. But yes, he would have liked you, I think… He deeply valued ambition. He used to say I deserved a man who knew what he wanted and who wanted to reach the sky to provide me and my future children the best life.” You smiled softly as you thought of him, yes, he would have liked him. “Look at your hands my love...” you commented, referring to how callous they had gotten but especially the small cuts he had on his palms from squeezing the reins as he rode.

“Can you tell me what he was like? What kind of man? I know things of course from public knowledge but you know better.” He replied, letting you apply oil on his palms.

“He was such a clever man, a scholar from the beginning. He read much, Greek classists, some Roman ones too. He always said that you couldn’t understand the world you live in and its future without understanding the victories and defeats of the past. He was very strategic in his decisions; he had that broad vision over things…he would have been an excellent counselor to you or would have enjoyed debating with you...” you chuckled nostalgic, grabbing a dry cloth to dry his skin.

“So that is where your sharp mind comes from when talking politics hm?” you heard the smile in his voice, trying to cheer you up “Wrapped in the sweetness of your mother. Any emperor around the world would bend the knee.” He cooed as you looked up, gently cupping your face and kissing your forehead protectively. “I would have been deeply honored to discuss with him.” You closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him more, your face against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, that was so calm and steady even after that exhausting trip, it soothed you too, everything will be okay.

“Now, if you are ready, let’s accompany your father to his eternal resting place. Let us not keep the gods...your God waiting.” Commodus spoke softly, a little encouraging smile, telling you he would always be there.

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[saintsenara]

For unhinged and deranged ships: Snape/Bellatrix.

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i adore these two haters, and not just in a "toxic situationship which leaves dozens dead" way.

because - as the most delusional snapemort defender in history, who would also defend bellamort with my life - i think it's inherently plausible that snape spends his period as a death eater during the first war feeling profoundly jealous of bellatrix.

after all, she's the dark lord's favourite - and voldemort isn't exactly shy about this being known [she wouldn't run around yapping about he "calls me his most loyal, his most faithful" if she had even the slightest feeling that voldemort would murder her for leaking his pillow talk] - which means that, if you go in for the idea that he's sleeping with her, i think you can argue that he also permits her some degree of public physical affection. i don't think they're holding hands during acts of terrorism, or anything like that, but i do think that bellatrix is summoned away from group settings to join voldemort, everyone knows what they're about to get up to, and the dark lord doesn't care.

snape - in contrast - is kept as a pretty clandestine part of voldemort's operation. karkaroff can't think of anything specific to credibly accuse him of, sirius isn't fully convinced he could have been a death eater, and so on.

and this makes sense - it's clear that snape gets taken on by voldemort in a back-of-house role [to be a spy he can eventually place at hogwarts, and very probably originally to brew for him], and is peripheral to the more public-facing, combat side of voldemort's terror. which means that any time he spends with the dark lord is probably one-on-one - and any affection he receives from voldemort during these sessions [and look, i ship it...] is similarly private.

but it's also clear in canon that this order only continues for a few months after bellatrix gets out of azkaban, before things start to shift and she finds herself having to be the jealous one.

from the start of half-blood prince onwards, snape usurps bellatrix in voldemort's public favour [no matter what he's like with either in private]. and we know that she's not thrilled about this - not least because she's correctly worked out that snape's not trustworthy and voldemort's only response is to tell her to wind her neck in.

and we also know that snape fucking loves how annoyed she is - he's having the time of his life roasting her when she cockblocks narcissa by stomping around his front room [the line about "endless reminiscences of how unpleasant azkaban is"... a third-degree burn, i fear] - and that all of snape's best pairings feature that "we literally cannot stop hurling insults at each other, i will not rest until i've told them this next zinger, i am incapable of letting anything go" dynamic.

textbook enemies-to-enemies-who-fuck.

where this turns into enemies-to-lovers... is that both snape and bellatrix are clearly profoundly lonely people. and not only that, but profoundly lonely in strikingly similar ways - above all in that they're in love with someone who doesn't want them in the way they'd like to be wanted. i don't think bellatrix loses anything of her character - her cruelty, her temper, her resilience - if we also imagine her as a bit of a hopeless romantic [her joy at voldemort complimenting her - "no higher pleasure... that means a great deal, bellatrix, coming from you" - which vanishes when he turns it into an insult is but one example] who would jump at the chance to be mrs riddle. snape's unrequited love is well known.

neither of them seem to have friendships in which they're the priority - snape is close to lucius malfoy, but the relationship is nonetheless transactional; bellatrix clearly adores her sister, but she's secondary in narcissa's concerns to her husband and son. they live their lives in service to men who regard it as their duty to sacrifice themselves for their cause - snape with dumbledore, who may like him, but who also thinks of him primarily as a tool to bring about voldemort's defeat; bellatrix with voldemort, who considers her to have done the bare minimum in terms of loyalty to him by enduring fourteen years in azkaban [even though he also thinks this places her above all her fellow death eaters, who didn't even do that]. they both have experience of imprisonment - snape metaphorically, trapped in the school he doesn't seem to have particularly enjoyed and the childhood home he thought he'd escaped; bellatrix literally. they're both voldemort's exceptions in terms of the demographics of the death eaters - snape on account of his social class; bellatrix on account of her gender - which means that they depend entirely on maintaining the dark lord's goodwill and are peripheral to the elite male social group which makes up the rest of the inner circle.

and these similarities mean that they have a pretty high chance of being able to understand each other, comfort each other, and help each other move beyond their isolation...

until voldemort gets jealous, that is.

[insidekatmind]

Best friends- Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18, smut, cheating,english is not my first language

The soft lights of the sunset paint the horizon in shades of orange and pink as you sit on your porch, a book open in your hands. The air is crisp, with a light breeze carrying the salty scent of the ocean. You're engrossed in your reading when you hear the familiar sound of hurried footsteps on the path leading to your house. You look up and see Pope, his expression troubled and his fists clenched at his sides.

“Can I come in?” he asks without preamble, his voice rougher than usual.

You set the book down next to you, concerned. “Of course, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. He climbs the porch steps, his movements quick and jittery. When he stops in front of you, you notice the flush on his cheeks and the slight tremor in his hands.

“It’s Cleo,” he says finally, crossing his arms over his chest as if trying to contain something too heavy to hold. “We had a fight. A bad one.”

You stand up, gesturing toward the door. “Come inside, let’s talk about it.”

He nods and follows you in, collapsing onto the couch in your living room. You bring him a glass of water, which he accepts with a small nod of thanks. He takes a sip in silence, then runs a hand through his hair—a gesture you know well. It’s his way of trying to calm himself down.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” you ask, sitting next to him, close enough to let him know you’re there for him but not so close as to invade his space.

He sighs, a deep and tired sound. “It started as something stupid, at least at first. We were talking about plans for the weekend, and I said I wanted to spend it with you guys, with the Pogues. She started saying we spend too much time together and that I should dedicate more time to just the two of us.”

You nod, trying to see both sides. “And what did you say?”

“That there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spend time with my friends. But then she got upset and said I never put her first.” He pauses, shaking his head. “It’s not true, but… I don’t know, maybe I messed up somewhere.”

You look at him with gentle understanding, seeing the weight he carries on his shoulders. “Pope, you know how much Cleo cares about you. But maybe she needs to feel more secure in your affection. Maybe your words made her think you don’t care enough.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, his dark eyes filled with frustration and pain. “But that’s not true. I do care, so much. I just… sometimes I don’t know how to show it.”

You place a hand on his arm, your touch light but reassuring. “You don’t have to have all the answers right away. Sometimes it’s just about listening to the other person and trying to understand them.”

He leans back against the couch, closing his eyes for a moment. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? I thought being with someone was supposed to be easier.”

You shake your head with a wistful smile. “Relationships are never easy, Pope. But if they’re worth it, you work to make them work.”

For a moment, silence fills the room, broken only by the sound of the waves in the distance. Then he leans slightly toward you, his gaze now softer but also more intense. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, you know? You’re always here for me, even when I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”

Your heart beats a little faster at his words, but you try to stay calm. “That’s what friends are for, Pope.”

He offers a faint smile, a tired but genuine one. “You’re more than a friend to me, you know that?”

Your breath catches for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He moves closer, his face now only inches from yours. “I mean… I don’t know when it started, but lately, I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I’m with Cleo, part of me just wants to be here, with you.”

His words leave you speechless. You search his eyes, trying to discern whether he’s confused or sincere. But there’s no doubt in his gaze, only honesty.

“Pope…” you start, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you to get over Cleo. It’s not that. But tonight, when we fought, all I wanted was to come here. To be with you.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. It’s a kiss that starts tentative, almost unsure, but as you respond, it deepens into something more intense, more passionate. His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the world around you fades away.

When you finally pull apart, both of you breathless, he looks at you with a kind of reverence tinged with uncertainty. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

You did not let him finish because you have re-cut your lips with his. You sucked his lip whining moaning.

Pope lies you on the couch while he takes off your clothes and then takes off his.

Pope looks at you for a moment to confirm that you want to do it, and you nod.

You moaned at how big and long Pope’s dick was. He smiled and kissed you softly, then came in with a quick blow, making both of them groan.

"You’re tighter than I imagined," Pope muttered as he began to move.

You groaned and then caught your lips with him

As the impulses of Pope increased fucking you with force venting all his anger and all his passion that had at that moment.

You could only groan with force while your pussy held Pope’s cock tightly making him moan while he fucked you harder while he chewed your neck leaving spots and bruises but you didn’t care, you were enjoying and getting even more excited at the same time.

You scratched his back feeling how it was destroying your pussy and left big scratches behind his back but neither of them cared, too taken by the moment and how you were fucking so well.

"you’re fucking me so well" You whimpered and he growled as he felt your pussy tighten even more around his cock two more shots and made you come then follow you by wheel cumming inside.

"the best sex of my life" he murmured as he joined your lips with hers again.

Pope still had his dick inside you and you felt it was getting hard again and you moaned as you were watching and stroked his hair.

"Round two?" He whispered and you smiled nodding